


I Know the Sound of Your Heart

by Itspizzatime



Series: I Know the Sound of You Heart [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Billy Hargrove Lives, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Emotional, Fluff, Gay Billy Hargrove, Harringrove, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Child Abuse, Implied Death, Jim "Chief" Hopper Lives, Jopper, M/M, Max is a good sister, Mindflayer, Slow Burn, billy is in a coma, max mayfield - Freeform, neil is terrible, posts03, steve wakes him up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itspizzatime/pseuds/Itspizzatime
Summary: Billy is in a coma. Max is a wonderful sister. And guess who wakes up Billy?This is my first fic! So I'm kind of nervous but also really excited! I've got big plans for this baby and I'm excited to go on this self-indulgent journey with whoever takes the time to read my ramblings.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Harringrove - Relationship
Series: I Know the Sound of You Heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072634
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. part i

**Author's Note:**

> To start us off we've got a Max POV.

“It’s been five months.”

From the driver's seat, her mother clears her throat, she’s a little caught off guard. “Five months since what, honey?”

“Since Billy died.” She watches quietly as her mother’s face morphs from confusion to shock. 

“Maxine! That is not— don’t say that! He is not dead!”

“Yet...” Max turns to the passenger window, concealing a snort and the smile twitching at the corner of her mouth as her mother lets out a loud gasp. The shrink they sent her to following the night at Star Court explained to her mom that she was just “ _using humor to cope_ ”, to not let it get under her skin. Just “ _ride it out_ ”. Fortunately for her mother, she doesn’t have to live with the real terrors in Hawkins, Indiana, just her daughter's darkening sense of humor. “I’m just kidding.”

Max thinks she’s broken her mom for a split second with the way her mouth hangs open like a fish as if something snagged her. She might be more willing to play along with Max’s games if she knew about bloodthirsty nightmares with thousands of teeth. She’d get it if she watched Billy’s body turn into a fountain of black goo. But she’s sighing, disappointed, hands gripping the wheel tight. “You just gotta keep… You know the doctors think you’re such a strong, brave girl continuing to visit her brother like this… You just have to keep it up… Christmas is coming and you know this time of year…”

With a roll of her eyes, she tunes it out as she pulls a lock of red hair over her top lip like a mustache. The monotony of Hawkins is passing by through the car window and everything is grey. Grey is probably the best descriptor for Hawkins, it’s drab and dreary even on it’s best days. Without Russians and monsters and a gate to hell where would the excitement be? Her mom is still going on in the driver's seat. If she hears the phrase “ _the miracle of Christmas_ ” again, she might yack. 

“Ya know, maybe, you and Neil could _actually_ come visit for once.” Max is incredibly pleased when her mother’s lips disappear into a fine line. Silence. 

The answer is _no._ It’s always going to be no. Neil had packed up Billy’s room in preparation for, _well_ , the _worstPeople don’t usually wake up from these things_ ”, was his reasoning. Her mother’s excuse is that Neil “ _doesn’t like hospitals_ ”, so she wants to be supportive of him because “ _he’s grieving too_ ”. But Max knows it’s really because her mother doesn’t have a backbone and Neil is just an asshole. 

She used to get so angry at Billy for calling her mom spineless but after five months of hearing her excuses, Max gets it now. She hopes she’s never weak like her mother is. Just the thought of it leaves a pit in her stomach a mile deep. She tries to crawl out of the hole but it just feels deeper with each passing minute. She tries to promise herself she won’t be like her mom but it’s hard when they already share so many features, it’d be easy for weakness to be one of them.

They sit in silence the rest of the trip. The only thing her mother says before Max is running off is that _she’ll be there at six-thirty sharp. As usual._

—

_So strong and brave that Mayfield girl is._

Everyone at the hospital knows Max. She’s been there _almost_ every other day since July to visit Billy. The nurse at the front desk doesn’t even make her stop and get a visitor tag anymore, she just gives her a small nod as she bops along towards the elevator. The doctors and nurses quite like her too, which makes her feel a little cocky as she walks down the halls, like this is _her_ hospital, despite how gloomy it is. 

And then Billy is exactly where she left him.

She mocks his body just laying there, “Hey, shitbird, you’re late.” She hopes one day he’ll sit up and flip her off — doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen anytime soon though. “Like, five whole months late...”

Max doesn’t like admitting she misses him. He’s an asshole. Like a _real_ asshole. Like wants to kill her friends kind of asshole. But she misses him nonetheless, even though a lot of people don’t share that sentiment.

There’s a tightness in her chest that winds its way around her ribs and constricts. She hates seeing him like this. He should be parading around in his leather jacket, cigarette hanging from his lip, telling her how much of a bitch she is. But he’s here, he’s alive (even though she’d watched him die). It was just the part of Billy that had been flayed that really died (or something like that). Somehow there was something left for the doctors to put back together. Now there was just a map of keloid scars all across his body to tell the story of how he’d faced the Mindflayer. She could see them peeking out from under the hospital gown as his chest rose and fell. They looked painful.

Two months prior they had taken him off the ventilator and said they were going to try to bring him out of the coma. The infections had cleared and the wounds had healed greatly. But a solid two months later and still nothing. It was the head nurse that told her she should talk to him, that that’s helped people wake up before.

So far it’s done nothing. 

But Billy’s still here. So Max is here too. She sits by his side and talks over the beeps and hisses of the machines he’s hooked up to in hopes he wakes up. And she tries not to get upset but maybe— maybe he won’t come back. 

“Asshole.” Her throat feels tight but Max has work to do, she can’t be letting him get her all teary-eyed right now. 

Dragging the plush chair from the corner, she goes through the motions like it’s nothing, all second nature to her now. She gets comfortable next to his bed, even props her feet up as she settles in for the next few hours. Billy would hate that. He’d curse at her and her ratty old Chuck Taylors and smack her feet away. It’s kind of funny. 

She lets out a huff, leaning over to retrieve her homework from her backpack. She runs out of things to say a lot, so her visits have turned into a study session with a coma patient — which is _surprisingly_ helpful. Turns out Billy is a great listener when he’s completely unconscious. 

“Okay, so, like Romeo’s just discovered Juliet’s dead but she’s not really dead so it’s all… stupid…” She doesn’t like reading Romeo and Juliet to him, but it’s what she’s been assigned so neither of them has a choice (especially him). It’s at least some comfort to think he’d probably read it before and hated it just as much as she did. She giggles to herself a little, he’d be pissed to be hearing it again, she’s sure.

After a quick recap, she begins. 

“How oft when men are at the point of death  
Have they been merry, which their keepers call  
A lightning before death! Oh, how may I  
Call this a lightning?—O my love, my wife!  
Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath,  
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.  
Thou art not conquered. Beauty’s ensign yet  
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,  
And death’s pale flag is not advancèd there.—”

Max rolls her head back letting out a loud ‘ _ugh_ ’, slapping the paperback into her lap. “Lucas thinks this is romantic… News flash dude, they’ve only known each other for four days! That’s not-- Oh my god, it’s so stupid! Whatever!”

She rushes through the rest of the soliloquy, irritated at every word. Juliet isn’t even her age yet, “ _she hath not seen the change of fourteen years_ ”, and she’s already ready to die over some guy. Max would not die for Lucas as harsh as that sounds. 

She follows with reading the worksheet. Mumbles through it really. Pretends Billy has something to say about the imagery and prose. Pretends that Billy would have something positive to say about Shakespeare. Pretends that Billy was the type of older sibling that would willingly and _happily_ help with homework at all. He never would be. 

But she thanks him for his input. 

—

By the time six-thirty rolls around, Max is done with her homework, she’s all packed up, and ready to leave, but she lingers in the doorway, looking him over. He’ll be right here when she comes back, it just doesn’t feel right to have to leave him, and she wishes she could bring him home because he just looks so small. He looks smaller and smaller every day. And Max thinks maybe one day she’ll come and he’ll have just disappeared into the hospital sheets. 

“You better wake up.”

—

There are fat, wet flakes pelting the windshield when she gets into the car. It’s kind of nice, Hawkins first snow. Things are generally pretty dismal, what with the dead trees and grey skies, but Max likes the snow. Even though it makes her face numb and she can’t use her skateboard, she loves how everything sparkles and smells fresh and feels almost infinite in a blanket of white. Things might actually start feeling like Christmas too.

It’s usually an easy enough ride home; they dribble on about her homework and her mom will talk about what’s for dinner and then they’re home and all is well. Something is off. Max felt it as soon as she climbed into the passenger's seat. Her mom doesn’t look at her, just gives her a weak, “Hi, honey.”

A minute passes in strained silence and Max tries to swallow the knot that’s creeping up in her throat. Whatever it is, she wishes her mom would spit it out, but at the same time, she hopes if she concentrates hard enough on the droplets of melted snow on the window it’ll all just go away… 

“So, Max… w-we’re going to have to take a break from visiting for a while.”

“What?! Why?” Max snaps her head towards her mother, eyebrows furrowed. Her heart is beating fast in her chest. Whatever is happening, it can’t be happening, it just _can’t_. 

“Well... the weather is getting worse, there’s a big snow coming,” Her mother is tittering around the reason, her hands wringing the steering wheel. “Neil just doesn’t think it’s safe for me to be driving… If there’s any snow on the ground.”

Spineless. Absolutely spineless. Max’s face is burning and she’s gripping hard onto her backpack. Anger coils tight around her neck, makes her voice break, “That’s bullshit!”

“Maxine!”

“No!” Angry tears are brimming her eyes and her mom still won’t look at her. “He’s given up on Billy! He gave up a long time ago and he just wants us all to forget! And _you_ know it!”

“Max—” 

“No!” Max turns to the window shaking her head furiously, trying to hold back a sob as the tears come burning down her cheeks. She wants to scream as her mother stutters on, trying to justify herself. “It’s for their safety”, that’s all, it’s _fine_. But it’s _not_. She just expects Max to give up on Billy too.

Billy is an _asshole_. Billy is a lot of things, but he doesn’t deserve to be deserted like that. Not after being tortured by the Mindflayer, not after saving El, not after _any_ of it. Billy deserves a chance, he deserves a life, he deserves _better_. 

He deserves better than Neil has ever given him that’s for sure.

In that moment, Max has never hated anyone as much as she hates Neil Hargrove.


	2. part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Dustin can survive visiting Billy, so can Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumpin' into Steve's pov, where we will make ourselves comfortable for a while! Enjoy. (:

It’s another restless night. A swirl of darkness and monsters are in constant rotation behind his eyes. Every morning he wakes up in a panic, cold sweat making his pajamas cling to his body. He’s back in those tunnels or he’s back in that Russian lab fighting—but _losing_. 

When Steve gets up and looks out the window the sky envelopes everything in grey, he can’t help but feel like it’s not much better compared to the upside down. _Because everything is grey now._ Hawkins in the depths of winter turns into an inescapable sea of gloom. Even the bright, sparkling Christmas lights that light up the mainstreet don’t penetrate the murkiness that is an Indiana winter. It’s miserable at best. 

Just a couple years ago it wasn’t as daunting (the holiday season that is), Steve still held some of that excitement in his heart for this time of year. The kind of excitement that kept him up late as a little kid, always wanting to stay up just a little longer to sit around the tree. His mother always decorated so carefully and so beautifully. There was a new theme every year, a new color scheme to cover the whole house in. Tinsel and pine everywhere with a million scented candles that made the house smell warm and inviting with cinnamon and clove. But all that excitement has been burnt out of him. 

He’s the batch of gingerbread men that gets forgotten in the oven until the smoke detector goes off (and then they all end up in the trash).

The whole year was the trashcan, and if it hadn’t almost killed everyone and things had been a little more normal he might feel better. But who can enjoy anything when all they’ve got to look forward to is the nightmares they’ll have as soon as they close their eyes?

He’d rather _actually_ be a burnt gingerbread man.

—

Steve is gathering up his coat and Family Video vest when his mother comes knocking. She’s wearing a fluffy robe that smells sweet like sugar cookies, it makes him want to collapse back into bed. She stands there, all smiles with a cup of coffee like the perfect homemaker she is. 

“Going to work?” 

Steve glances down at the green vest, he thought it was obvious, “Uhm, yeah?”

He knows she’s just trying to be nice and trying to be involved in his life or whatever. But she’s been pushing this idea that he just needs to apply for the spring semester, that then he’ll go to college and not have to work at that stuffy video store anymore. He’ll be doing what he’s supposed to do. But it’s a little late to be applying for the spring semester, and not to mention Steve’s ambitions for his future took a nosedive after the first rejection letter he got. This isn’t something he can just communicate with his parents though, so talks with his mother are generally a rather draining chore. 

“Do you know if you’re working Christmas yet?" 

Steve works a lot, like, most of his time is taken up at the store, but it’s definitely not open on Christmas. He just doesn’t plan on spending the day with his family. 

“I don’t know, mom. I’ll see if the schedule is up as soon as I get there, okay?”

“Oh, okay!” She fusses, the smile doesn’t waver.

He’s ready for the conversation to wrap up but she reaches out for his face, a familiar but far away feeling, she hadn’t really done that in a while. She traces the deep line that’s set under one of his sleep deprived eyes. Her hand is warm from the cup of coffee and it makes his eyes droop. She’s gentle and kind and he really should be nicer to her. He definitely shouldn’t be lying to her about having to work on Christmas. 

“Still not sleeping very well, huh?” Her voice is soft and like honey. She rubs a small circle on his cheek before tucking a piece of his dark hair behind his ear. “Maybe tonight when you get home I can make you some chamomile tea, that might help.” 

She’s smiling so sweetly. Steve doesn’t have it in him to tell her no herbal remedy is going to cure what keeps him up at night. 

“Okay, yeah.” He nods and her eyes light up. 

She gives him a small, “Good,” before she turns and heads down the stairs. 

It’s only a few words exchanged between the two of them but it’s still exhausting, and he’s only got an exhausting, boring day ahead of him from there.

He pulls his coat on tight, trailing after her down the stairs. Her color scheme this year is a deep maroon and gold, it’s pretty. Steve wishes he could enjoy it like a normal person. He wishes he could enjoy drinking chamomile tea with his mother like a normal person. But most of all he wishes it wasn’t so fucking _cold_ outside.

\--

Scoops Ahoy was by far a more exciting job than Family Video. Even before all the Russian and Mindflayer business he had enjoyed it. It was easy work, filled with a lot of down time and a lot of free ice cream. (Who wouldn’t love that?) Family Video is a lot of stocking and dusting and _rewinding_. They’re not even allowed to sit and watch any of the movies when it’s slow. On occasion he and Robin get away with watching sporadic scenes here and there when there’s no chance the owners will come by. They’ve never completed a movie though. 

The best part of the day is of course when Robin comes in. She works the evening shifts after she’s done with school. If he had anything better to do he wouldn’t get to see her for very long or very often, but since his days are typically empty, he stays after his shift a lot. 

Clocking out and peeling off the tacky vest is the second best part of the day. The Scoop’s uniform cramped his style for sure but for some reason the vest feels worse. It’s always a relief to be out of it. 

Robin is in good spirits which makes things feel a little less bleak. There’s a girl at school that has caught her eye. _She’s new._

While Steve still hasn’t dated anyone since Nancy, he’s not jealous. It’s kind of nice to hear about something so normal and familiar. He can’t help but miss the simpler times too. Graduating was once such a daunting concern, that, and impressing girls with his thick, luscious hair. It’s all so insignificant now.

“How long are you planning on staying tonight?” Robin asks from under a pile of tapes. “Because I’m not splitting my peanut butter and jelly with you for a third night.”

Steve just laughs, Robin gives him a look like she’s trying to be serious but she’s laughing with him before heading off with a tower of VHS’. 

He’s about to follow her with a quip about her sandwiches when the door chimes. 

“I need you to talk some sense into her!” Dustin is charging in followed quickly by Max.

“Hello to you too...” Steve rolls his eyes. These kids could really use it to learn some manners. 

“I need you to help me.” _Max doesn’t say hello either._

He shouldn’t be surprised. What kind of greeting should he really expect from any of these teenagers. He loves them all dearly but they’re all _terrible_. He offers the best smile he can still, “Uh, okay.”

Dustin is making a fuss that Steve can’t quite follow, it makes Max swiftly punch him in the arm. “I quit AV club… and some other stuff. He’s freaking out.” She waves her hand, dismissing whatever Dustin is still trying to say. 

Steve is missing out on a good chunk of the story he’s sure but he nods along anyway. “Good for you.”

“No!” Dustin squeals, thoroughly offended (that’s what he gets for such a rude greeting). “It’s not good!”

Dustin goes on about commitments and the _party_ and how Max is letting _everyone_ down, but Max marches on. “I need you to take me to the hospital.” 

“Why do you need to go-- oh.” 

_Billy._

Steve doesn’t think about Billy a lot. At least he tries not to. Billy _has_ been the unfortunate star of a handful of his nightmares. He knows Billy isn’t a monster, but Billy _was_ a monster and the image of him with veins black and bulging is still fresh in his head. He’d watched Billy die, for _Christ's sake_! It’s hard to just forget that!

He’d heard that Max visits a lot. Which, he wishes them the best, truly. The hospital is just not somewhere Steve wants to be. “Doesn’t your mom take you?”

“She’s… She just can’t, she’s got other stuff to do.”

“That’s a lie!” Dustin interjects. The look she gives him is absolutely withering but the kid pushes on and Steve can’t help but cringe. “You said you would get in trouble if you went.”

“Not _exactly_! It’s _fine_ , Dustin!” Max punches him in the arm again and Steve can hear Robin laughing from the other side of the store. More squabbling ensues and Steve drags a hand over his face, exasperated.

“Please, Steve! Tell her no! She made a commitment to _us_ , the _party_!” 

“Why would you get in trouble?” Robin sidles up cooly, attempting to reign the conversation back in. Robin is better at being the voice of reason, Steve thinks. 

“They just don’t want me out in the snow.”

“Yet, they’re going to let you come to AV _and_ Mike’s house. You’ll be out in the snow then.” Dustin is crossing his arms over his chest sternly as he speaks, “They _specifically_ don’t want you going to the hospital.”

“They didn’t say that!”

“It’s _inferred_!”

They go back to yelling and Robin is laughing again.

Steve takes a step back, running a hand through his hair before resting it on his hip. “Listen, if you’re going to get in trouble, I don’t really want to be part of it.”

“ _See_!” Dustin turns his attention back to Steve just to receive another punch, but this time it’s from Robin who’s grinning like mad. She utterly _loves_ the chaos these kids bring. 

But Max is really serious now. Her eyebrows knit together, her lip-- trembling. Oh _god_ , not today. Steve does not need any kids crying in the store today. 

“I _have_ to go.” Max’s voice is strained. “Th-they won’t know…”

Steve softens, her eyes are wet, and his heart aches, and _god_ , he’s going to take her. He would’ve saved them all a lot of yelling if he’d just agreed to in the first place. “Who picks you up from AV, or whatever?”

“Mrs. Sinclair.” 

“And from the Wheeler’s?”

“Usually Johnathon when he picks up Will. W-we’ll get back in time for them to still take me home! Then it’s like… the usual...”

“And you don’t think your mom—?” 

“I promise, she won’t find out, and if she does… I’ll- I’ll come up with something.”

Dustin opens his mouth to speak but Robin shakes her head, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder (he’s not the best at admitting defeat). 

“Okay.” Steve sighs, dragging his nails through his scalp. How bad could it be? There’s worse things keeping him up at night than whether a kid gets in trouble with their parents or not.

Max’s face completely lights up, she’s clearing her eyes with the back of her hand, thanking him profusely. Dustin just glowers, face all red and splotchy with the frustration he’s desperately holding back. 

They make a plan for him to pick her up tomorrow from the school. They’ll go to the hospital and then he’ll take her back and she’ll just pretend she was at AV the whole time. With all the trouble the whole lot of them had gotten into the past couple of years, this couldn't be that difficult to pull off. Max tells him he has nothing to worry about as she bounces out the door, a bright smile plastered across her face. Dustin drags behind, completely dejected. Steve is a little worried.  
.  
—

Steve fidgets in the BMW, flipping through his cassettes over and over again. The bell hasn’t rung just yet and Steve is feeling a little apprehensive about his decision (to say the least). He doesn’t know exactly what the protocol is for this. Should he go in with her? Should he just wait outside? Does he come back around after a couple hours? There wasn’t really a solid plan other than him showing up and then dropping her off in time for the Sincalir’s to get her.

Most of all he doesn’t know if he’s ready to see Billy. 

Billy was a monster. Billy _died_. And Billy’s still the same dude that bashed a plate over his head and then beat him into the Byers’ floor… 

His thoughts don’t get far before Max is knocking on the window. There’s no backing out now.

— 

As soon as she’s in the passenger seat she’s talking. Kind of can’t _stop_ talking. But she’s smiling and laughing and it feels good. She’s been through a lot. She deserves to smile, deserves to talk and be excited, she deserves normalcy in any form.

So Steve drives and Max talks and he learns quite a bit in the fifteen minutes it takes for them to get to the hospital. 

Some of the other kids have gone to the hospital with her. It’s usually Lucas, she explains. He wants to be supportive of his girlfriend and all, but she knows deep down it really freaks him out. Will comes one time but gets scared and they end up having to call Mrs. Byers. Dustin tags a long _only_ once and _only_ because Lucas really put the pressure on. Dustin is obnoxious no matter the setting and is lucky Billy didn’t wake up while he was there, Max is sure he would be dead if he had. _Mike_ , has never come. Max calls him a little bitch and Steve can’t help but agree. 

Then there’s El., she comes to visit with Max the most. El tells her she feels really connected to Billy (he saved her after all). She says she knows Billy is going to wake up, doesn’t know how or when exactly but Max appreciates the support regardless. El is the best out of all of them. She’s sweet and polite and a far better friend to Max than any of the boys. She deserves a million Christmas presents and Steve decides she’s his favorite. 

There’s also the head nurse who Max absolutely adores. She’s always bringing her treats and coffee while she’s there, even got her set up with a really nice chair. She tells Steve if he’s lucky maybe she’ll bring him a cookie too. The nurse also has high hopes for Billy. 

It all sounds really _nice_. Billy is lucky to have such a sweet little sister. They might not be blood but Max really is putting herself out there for him. Steve hopes Billy wakes up for her sake.

She never touches on exactly what’s happening with her parents. Steve can’t say he blames her, family stuff is always, well, incredibly depressing. Whatever their rhyme or reason is it can’t be very fair. Billy is their son and they’re planning to just _not_ visit him? It doesn’t seem right, especially with Christmas coming up so fast. 

Time flies after all of Max’s chatter. They’re at the hospital in record time, he’s sure. When they pull up Max looks at him expectantly. She doesn’t even have to say it; he just knows she wants him to come in. 

“I don’t think I should come in… I —“

“You _have_ to come in. If Dustin survived, you’ll survive.” She rolls her eyes. 

There’s no point in fighting it. Max is rather headstrong and there was no way she was ever going to take no for an answer. He should have known that as soon as he agreed to take her in the first place. 

And really how dangerous can Billy Hargrove be? He’s in a coma.

—

The bright fluorescents, the white walls, the _sterility_. It’s a stark contrast to what usually plagues his nightmares. But they’re both filled with death. That’s what makes him really uneasy. There’s very few good things that happen in hospitals as far as he’s concerned. 

“New friend today.” The nurse at the check in desk smiles at Max, doesn’t even take down Steve’s name, just hands him a visitor sticker. ‘New friend’ is repeated around every corner. Max just nods, smiling, proud. And Steve, _god_ , he probably looks so awkward, barely able to offer a smile, let alone a wave. He’s really trying to play it cool, like hospitals aren’t scary and the walls aren’t closing in. It’s just a hospital. Hospitals don’t have a gate to hell and there aren’t going to be any monsters around the corner, he just has to remember to breathe. 

When they finally get to Billy’s room, Steve can’t seem to get his legs moving past the doorway. He wasn’t sure what he had expected but it wasn’t quite this. It’s Billy but it’s _not_ Billy all at the same time. Chills skitter down his spin and there’s a pit in his stomach that makes him feel like he shouldn’t be here, like he’s seeing something he shouldn’t be seeing. 

“Hey, shitbird.” Max greets him. She’s already strutting around the room like she owns it, pulling up what he assumes is the nice chair she talked about in the car. This is all natural for her. When she comes back around to the doorway she even leans out and calls for another chair. Geez, this kid is fourteen and she’s running a hospital. She’s got that expectant look on her face again too and that’s enough to get his legs moving again. 

It’s all a little overwhelming. 

It’s hard not to stare. Billy, who was once power and muscle and _tan_ , is weak and small and pale laying in the hospital bed. He wouldn’t be able to do much damage now, that’s for sure. But it doesn’t feel right. It kind of _hurts_. He preferred the Billy that was always getting in his space, that made Steve’s heart pump with adrenaline. The Billy that was so _alive_. 

“They had to shave his head...” Max points out. “But that was like months ago. Kinda weird though, huh?”

There’s a halo of gold curls that frame Billy's face. It’s only a few inches of new growth, nothing compared to the mullet he wore so proudly. It’s no longer a mane of envy, that used to whip Steve in the face with a shock of Aquanet during practices, _no_. But the small curls look downy and soft, no product in them to weigh down the spiral pattern. Steve imagines he’d be able to run a hand through without even catching any tangles. 

He doesn’t get lost in those locks for long before a nurse comes in smiling with a plastic waiting room chair. “Sorry, not everybody gets the star treatment like Miss Max. But it’s nice to see a new friend.”

 _New friend_. It’s weird to keep hearing that, Billy and him aren’t friends. At least they weren’t… And how do you become friends with a coma patient?

Max blushes a little. “Alma this is Steve. Him and Billy played basketball together.” 

“Lovely to meet you, Steve.” 

Steve mutters a hesitant, “You too.” Alma is already bustling out of the room.

He pulls the chair awkwardly next to Max. What is he doing here? He should be down in his car, blasting the heat, listening to Wham!, definitely not sitting in Billy Hargroves hospital room. He’s so close to excusing himself when Max shoves a paper into his lap. It’s a printout with a crudely drawn Santa and what looks like six reindeer at the top, big fancy calligraphy titles : ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. 

“Uhhh.” 

“It’s our “ _for fun_ ” homework in English.” Max is rolling her eyes again. Seve worries maybe they’ll get stuck back in her head one day if she doesn’t cool it. “Will you read, please? That way I can get through the worksheet faster.” 

No.

“Ya know, I’m not very good at, like, reading out loud. It’s not quite my thing.” _Wow_ , that sounded pathetic. Steve’s face burns with embarrassment. 

Max is already filling out her name on the top of her worksheet… She’s chastising him in her head for not knowing better, he’s sure of it. She’s awfully smug under all those freckles.

“Okay, fine, I’ll read it.” 

He wipes his hands down his jeans, sweaty with nerves already. He picks up the paper, at least it’s something he’s familiar with. His grandad used to read it to him before Steve found other _activities_ that were much more interesting. He still fucking hates it but he’s able to squelch the voice in his head that wants to beg her to spare him this. 

Taking a deep breath he begins.

“'T-twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house...  
Not-not... a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;  
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care...  
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;  
The children were n-nestled all snug in their beds;  
While visions of sugar—sugar— OW!“ 

Green sparkly nails dig into his arm causing him to jerk back. He tries to wipe away the sting of the little crescent imprints to no avail. He didn’t think he was fucking it up that bad. But Max forced him to an abrupt halt and his face has never felt so hot. (Being embarrassed in front of a fourteen year old does not look good on him).

“Listen, I—“ He finally looks up at Max’s face but she’s not looking at him. Her blue eyes are wide and brimmed with tears. She doesn’t say anything. He follows her gaze to the bed...

Time freezes— at least he thinks it does. Everything is still and quiet, except there’s thundering in his ears and Steve can’t tell if it’s his heart or Max’s heart that’s pounding so loud. It doesn’t feel real. Brilliant, limpid blue eyes stare back at them. Stare back at _him_. Steve hasn’t seen the ocean since he was small but he knows that’s the exact blue. Pacific blue. A California boy with ocean eyes to match. 

He forgot Billy’s eyes were so blue...

And Steve is _lost_.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s the same claustrophobic white as always, the same oppressive fluorescent lights, the same air that’s thick with the smell of bleach— so thick he can taste it. And it’s quiet, deafeningly so. His limbs feel like static as he walks the halls, nervous shivers rattle through his body. He peeks into rooms, hoping to find someone, _something_ , but every bed is empty. There’s no trace of life or activity.

 _He’s all alone._

It feels like hours of walking. Hours that drag on and make the walls feel like they’re steadily closing in. Hours of turning corners just to be in the same place, looking into the same rooms, finding the same empty hospital beds. He tries to scream but nothing comes out; his voice choked in his throat by an invisible vise. Silence presses in more and more, makes his skin crawl, makes tears threaten to break from the corners of his eyes.

He could stumble around infinitely, heart pounding, walls closing in— but he’s exhausted. Completely drained of the will to continue. He slumps into a wall, presses his head into its coolness, tries to even his breath, tries to ground himself. But the walls won’t let him, they rumble against him, push him away, force him back to face the hallway. Back to staring out into the repetition of emptiness. His heart sinks back into panic. 

And then a room flickers. 

He approaches slowly, the fluorescents buzz and flicker violently, strobing faster and faster until he steps into the room. A white flash temporarily blinds him. It’s jarring at first but when the room comes back into focus he feels calm. His limbs don’t feel like they’re asleep, they don’t buzz with anxiety— panic melts away. His heart beats steady and he’s able to breathe again, even and slow.

The hospital bed isn’t empty either. It’s Billy. But not Billy. A Billy that Steve doesn’t quite recognize. It’s the Billy who died, the Billy who lived but isn’t quite alive, the Billy whose hair got shaved off in July. The Billy who looks small and sad and pale. The Billy that laid in a coma until Steve read to him.

The Billy that _Steve_ woke up.

He looks so peaceful laying there this time, like a restful sleep instead of a relentless coma. Steve envies it. Wishes he could sleep peacefully for once. Wishes he could lay down, close his eyes, and not wake up for a long time. Wishes he could rest his head next to those curls that lay soft and bouncy out on the pillow. He feels the same urge to run a hand through them as last time. It’s a familiar and far away feeling but Steve doesn’t feel lost this time. 

When Billy’s eyes open, Steve has to catch his breath. His eyes are endlessly blue. More blue than he remembers. _Always_ bluer than he remembers. 

With a snap like a rubberband, Billy is on top of him, electricity crackling through the air above them as those bright blue eyes bear down into him. And Steve isn’t breathing. Billy’s hands are around his neck gripping tighter and tighter, forehead veins bulging, face red with heat and anger— he’s _grinning_. A sharp grin with razors for teeth, the grin of a shark that smells blood. Steve’s skin burns under his palms and he’s gasping, trying to grasp at Billy’s hands to pull him away, let him breathe— but he’s strong, _otherworldly_ strong and he can’t get him off. 

Just like the monsters Steve has faced in all his other dreams, Billy’s face slowly opens to reveal rows upon rows of teeth. Thousands of them, bloody and sharp, ready to tear into flesh, ready to eat him whole. Drool drips onto his cheek, hot and stinking like death— there’s no escape. He tries to resist, tries to turn away, but Billy’s gaping mouth presses in until he’s swallowed by darkness.

—

It doesn’t come all at once. It starts with little pops of color in the black behind his eyes. He’s not dead, at least he doesn’t think he’s dead. Heat prickles his eyelids, makes the black glow red, steadily getting brighter and brighter until it’s white light. His limbs are static again but this time the feeling slowly fades, like they’re waking up, like _he’s_ waking up. Soft heat beneath him relaxes his muscles, reminds him to breathe, _he can breathe._ The wind carries a salty brine over him, cools him, ocean waves crash loud against the shore, and when his limbs stop feeling like they’re fading he digs his fingers into the beach until they reach the wet sand just beneath its surface. He hasn’t been to the ocean in a long, long time. 

And he’s not alone. 

“Welcome back, pretty boy.”

His eyes are heavy, he can barely pry them open and squinting against the sun doesn’t help bring anything into focus. The figure is too soft but he knows who it is, he would know that voice anywhere. It’s Billy and as his eyes adjust he recognizes this Billy. This Billy has long, gold hair that spirals down to his shoulders. This Billy's skin is smooth and bronzed and healthy. This Billy smiles with bright teeth, lashes long, and eyes soft. This is Billy alive. _This Billy doesn’t try to kill him._

Steve is lost again.

—

It’s December twenty-sixth and Steve is regretting his decision to skip out on the family celebration the night before. His mom’s been going on and on about one of his kid cousins and his achievements. The kid is in sixth grade and he’s some sort of genius so they’re already looking into colleges for him. If he had been there he wouldn’t have to be listening to it now. It would have been awful to experience in real-time, as his cousin is a little shit, but having his mother gushing about it now feels worse somehow.

His mom must think it's encouraging in some way. That if his cousin who isn’t even thirteen yet can be looking at ivy leagues, Steve can surely get into the community college. It stings. It stings worse than all their little talks, it stings worse than every passing comment, it stings worse than the stack of applications his mom has slowly been building on top of his dresser, reminding him of all his missed opportunities, reminding him he’s still a failure in his parent’s eyes. 

He feels sick. 

Nodding along, he does his best to smile, does his best to pretend like he cares about any of his extended family, does his best to open presents and thank them like any of it matters. Pretend, pretend, pretend. Always pretending. 

He lets his mind wander, thinks about the dream that’s been on repeat ever since he saw Billy, ever since Billy woke up. He hasn’t even seen him since that day but he’s plagued by him every time he closes his eyes.

He thinks about running his hands through those delicate curls again and again. It doesn’t stop and he can’t figure out why. 

Once Billy was awake there wasn’t really any need for Steve to drive Max. Her parents had to kind of step up to the plate now that he was back in the world of the living. Had to perform a little bit to keep people from talking, from thinking anything ill of them for not going— because Billy is a “hero”. At least with Max going while Billy was out people couldn’t come up with much because frankly there’s not much to do with a coma patient anyway. 

Max was definitely in trouble for going against their wishes but they couldn’t stop her now that Billy was awake. Her stepmom went right back to driving her every other day too, so Steve wasn’t of use anymore. 

But Steve’s thinking about going back.

“Steve? Steve, honey?” His mom is staring at him patiently, concern pinched between her eyebrows. “Are you alright?”

Goosebumps prickle over his skin and his cheeks feel a bit flushed. He clears his throat, “Yeah, I’m fine… Sorry, I was just…” _Too caught up in a daydream about a boy with golden hair_. Completely _normal_ stuff.

He was supposed to be answering something else but he had completely lost track of the conversation. 

“You know I don’t mind calling Doctor Schneider for you. Maybe we can get to the bottom of all this insomnia?” She’s got a worried smile on her lips. Always sweet, despite making him feel like an absolute loser only minutes before.

“No, no. I’m okay.” He lies, “I’ve been starting to sleep a little better… I think the chamomile is really starting to help.”

It’s not. It doesn’t relax him in the slightest. He’s been drinking the mug his mom prepares for him every night and all it does is make him have to piss every five minutes, so he has to lie, has to spare her feelings, the bonus just being it saves him a lot of trouble trying to explain what’s wrong with him. It’s easier to just pretend. It’s _always_ been easier to just pretend.

Worry melts away from his mother, face lit up with satisfaction, proud that her herbal remedy has cured her son’s ailments. “That’s great! That makes me so, so happy, honey!”

Steve covers up his grimace with a forced smile and a nod.

“Soooo…” She lets out a laugh, sees there’s still confusion in his eyes and repeats her original question. “I was asking if you’ve gone through any of those pamphlets? I was thinking we could fill some out together. It’s a little late for Spring… But fall is going to be here in the blink of an eye.” 

_A little late?_ Steve wants to laugh. It’s late for the fall too, and it’s definitely a _little late_ for college all together. 

His father lets out a grunt, the first noise he’s made the entire time. Steve knows his father doesn’t have any hope for him. His father knows he’s not going to apply and definitely isn’t going to come work for him either. Steve’s going to stay at the shitty Family Video just to disappoint him while his kid cousin goes to Harvard. 

His mom shoots his dad a dark look— and they’re back, a full circle back to the root of what his parents think is his problem. He’s unmotivated and lazy and a complete failure, and his mother is somehow still in denial that he’ll amount to much of anything.

Steve tries his best not to outright scowl as his parents have a hushed argument, forces himself to look away, hiding the _absolutely not_ that is trying to wiggle out of his mouth. His eyes happen upon the clock and it’s an absolute blessing if he ever saw one. “Oh shi— oot! I’m late!”

—

“So you and Robin hung out on Christmas, huh?” Dustin waggles his eyebrows. “Meeting the parents? Things are getting pretty serious, aren’t they?”

Steve can’t help but laugh. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s not like that?”

“Pfffft,” Dustin rolls his eyes, doesn't believe him for a second. “Whatever you say, dude... I know somethings up.” 

Something _is_ up. Robin is a lesbian. 

Steve reminds him, what feels like daily, that he and Robin are _just_ friends. Has to explain that a guy can indeed be friends with a girl even when he’s single and she’s single too. Won’t explain that Robin would never go out with Steve anyway because he’s not a part of the team she plays for. That’s not a conversation for Steve to have. And frankly, he shouldn’t have to be explaining any of it at all! It’s not Dustin’s business.

“Did you get to talk to Suzie?” A quick conversation change is what’s best to get Dustin off his back. 

Dustin's mood quickly sours though. “No… We haven’t talked in weeks…” 

Stomach twisting into an uncomfortable knot, Steve glances at Dustin in the passenger seat. He knew it had gotten harder with the weather being bad and all — he’s not sure how his radio thing works but he’s sure it wouldn’t work well in a snowstorm even if the kid tried. “I thought you guys arranged like a little phone call for Christmas... or something?” 

He avoids Steve’s gaze, turns quickly to look out the window. Sniffles. “She didn’t call…” 

It’s like a punch in the gut. Steve really feels for him. He’s never been the best at comforting people, he wishes he was better, especially now. Dustin is a good guy, any girl would be lucky to have him (despite how painfully nerdy he is).

“Hey,” Steve offers him a reassuring smile, “She’ll call. She was probably just super wrapped up with family stuff… it’s Christmas and they’re like super Mormon or whatever, right?”

“You think so?” 

“Yeah, dude! You’re a fuckin’ catch! Frankly, if she doesn’t see that it’s a major loss for her.”

Dustin smiles weakly, rubs his nose on his sleeve. They’re pulling up to the Byers’ driveway and Steve is relieved he won’t have to continue the conversation about a fourteen-year-old's long-distance relationship. He won’t lie, sometimes he is a little perturbed about these kids and how they all seemed to magically have found “the one”. He’d thought maybe Nancy would have been that for him but the longer they’ve been apart the less and less Steve thinks they would’ve been good for each other at all. 

Before he’s even got the car in park, Dustin is out the door, slinging his backpack around as he sprints up the steps.

“Jeez, man!” Steve yells after him, throwing the BMW in park roughly. 

The whole troop is at the door to greet him. They’ve been on winter break for less than a week but they act like they haven’t seen each other in years. He reaches into his back seat and retrieves a stack of sealed envelopes. He’s not good at comforting people and he’s not good at gifts either, so he settled on cash for the kids. 

Joyce is the only one left waiting for him at the door, the kids already piling in the living room, yelling over each other about things he won’t be able to comprehend, he’s sure. She gives him a one-armed hug, wishing him a Merry Christmas as she pulls him along to the kitchen with her, away from the madness.

Her house is chaotic at its best, _good_ chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Once Hopper and El moved in it only seemed to increase. But it’s nice. It’s nice to be somewhere so lively, filled with family, filled with people that actually care about each other, filled with _love_.

She leads him to the kitchen, where the “adults” are— it’s just Johnathon and Nancy. He can hear Hopper’s voice boom from the living room trying to wrangle the kids. The “adult room” isn’t really very adult. She points out the different snacks she has set up, tells him to help himself, make himself at home. At home with the “adults” but he doesn’t really feel like any of them qualify for anything remotely adult. 

“Do you want me to take those out there?” She gestures to the stack of envelopes. It takes him a second before he holds them out to her. He’s distracted thinking about his own family again and she’s already bustling out of the kitchen before he can even say a thank you.

Nancy and Johnathon give him an awkward hello. 

When school started back up they kind of just drifted apart. Steve guesses sometimes people find out they don’t have much in common when they don’t see each other every day anymore. Which is fine but it seemed to get more awkward as time passed. He’d pinpointed the reason when college came up one day. Nancy and Johnathon had gotten all hushed when he’d walked in on them filling out applications. He figured they would try to get into the same college, they’re basically inseparable, but they didn’t need to give him any pity for it. 

They’ll go off to college and Steve will stay in Hawkins and it’ll be fine. 

“Here,” Nancy smiles, ladling eggnog into a mug and passing it to him. “Drink up. We’re gonna go get set up in there, okay?”

Steve nods and they both exit, leaving him alone with his eggnog. Turns out the “adult room” is pretty lonely.

He’s about to head after them when Max’s bright red head pops in from the hall.

“Hey!” Her eyes are bright, she’s clutching something crudely wrapped in newspaper in her fist. She shoves it into his chest, “This is for you.” 

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He looks down at it.

“I know.” She’s smiling, looking expectantly— like she does. 

“Yours is in there,” He gestures over her shoulder, residual awkwardness from Nancy and Johnathon still hangs in the air.

“I know.” She repeats, giving him an amused eye roll.

From the feel of it it’s a cassette, but that doesn’t take away any of his eagerness as he rips through the paper. Queen’s _The Game_. It’s used. The case is covered in little scratches and something sticky, and the cover art is a little torn and looks like it has a coffee stain on it. It’s used in the way someone listened to it a lot, probably wound and rewound it to listen again and again. _Loved_ it. Steve _loves_ it.

“This is really awesome, Max. Thank you.” Steve beams. 

“You don’t have it already?” A dusting of pink peeks out from under the freckles on her cheeks,“I just wanted to, like, let you know... I really appreciate you taking me to the hospital the other day...”

Steve is launched back into his dream about Billy with those soft curls and those strong hands around his throat. He swallows, “Yeah, yeah… It wasn’t a problem. I’m glad you’re not in too much trouble.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, her cheeks start to glow red, makes her freckles stand out even more. Silence sits uncomfortably between the two of them before she says in a rush, “And I was kind of wondering if you’d take me again, my parents are gonna be at this party on New Year's Eve and I really wanna go visit him but...”

It’s kind of funny. He imagines she was psyching herself up to ask him, probably nervous after the events of last time. It wasn’t like anything bad happened, but it was _a lot_ , a shock for everyone, that’s for sure. She probably thinks he’s traumatized and, well, she wouldn't be completely wrong.

“Yeah. I can do that.” He doesn’t hesitate. _Why doesn’t he hesitate?_ There's blue eyes and blonde hair waiting at that hospital, and it’s all he’s thought about, almost _obsessed_ about. For christ's sake, he dreams about it every single night. He can’t say _no_. 

Max is surprised, her eyes go wide, she doesn’t really seem to believe him— she expected rejection. “Really?!”

Steve nods, a lump of regret suddenly knots itself in his throat. He was thinking about going back anyway, this would be the easiest way to go, wouldn’t it? 

“Awesome! Thank you!”

He has whiplash from how quickly he agreed and then how quickly that had turned into anxiety. It’s almost embarrassing. But she’s happy, so Steve is happy and she’s gone off to the other room to rejoin the group, leaving Steve stunned, staring at the wall. Billy’s awake. Steve is going to go see Billy awake and conscious and talking and moving. And what is he supposed to do?

He’s not going to panic about it though. Not yet at least. 

Throwing back the eggnog he finally joins everyone in the living room.

—

The Byers’ tree isn’t like the one in his house. It’s not as tall, it’s not as full, and it’s not decked out in fancy, imported lights and decorations. But Steve likes this one better. There’s love in this tree. The tree at his house, though beautiful, feels gaudy and pretentious in comparison. The Byers decorations are made from popsicle sticks, pine cones, and lots of glitter glue. It’s covered in school pictures framed in tinsel and lots of Wills drawings. It feels like what a Christmas tree should be. It feels like a home, not a catalog. 

Steve doesn’t think there’s a single decoration made by him on his mom's tree. 

It’s hard to focus the rest of the night. His thoughts flit between his disappointments at home and the blue-eyed boy in the hospital. He doesn’t know what it is that’s got him so caught up in Billy. The guy _was_ for all intents and purposes his enemy, never apologized for busting his face in or threatening any of their lives. Yet, Steve keeps going back to him, can’t place where the obsession is coming from. 

He can’t imagine what anyone in the room would think if they knew where his thoughts were, if they knew what he’d been toiling over for days now.

“Steve!” A package smacks him in the face and falls into his lap. It’s small and soft, doesn’t hurt, but lands a painful blow to his psyche under Dustin’s confused furrow. “Pay attention!”

His cheeks burn as he unwraps his gift, promising himself he’s going to be more present.

Dustin gives him a pair of Scooby-Doo socks. Will gives him a drawing of him as a muscly warrior with a baseball bat full of nails. Jonathan gives him a mixtape that’s signed by him and Nancy. It's wonderful. And for the first time the whole holiday season, he feels surrounded by love. 

He doesn't get caught in his thoughts the rest of the night.

—

“You know he’s awake now, right?”

They’d sat in silence for half of the ride to Dustin's house. Both too full of Christmas cookies and eggnog to talk. Steve is a little confused, “Who?”

“Billy... Who else?”

The anxiety swings back in full force. “Oh, yeah…” 

“I can’t believe you agreed to take her again... Don’t you have something special planned for New Years with Robin?”

Steve sighs, too full and too tired to be having this conversation, he snaps, “Will you chill? For the last time, Robin and I aren’t together… And what does it matter if I visit Billy? What is he gonna do?”

“You’re planning on staying?! Like _actually_ visiting?!” Dustin is aghast. Steve missed something, _again_. Had Max meant _just_ the ride? Like a drop off? Not a visit? 

Steve’s throat dries up. “What?! No! — I mean, no… Yeah...I guess?”

“Are you okay? Did you get the shit beat out of you again?... Are you concussed?!”

“What?! No! Jesus, Dustin!” 

“I’m just saying! Why would you want to visit Billy Hargrove? He wants to kill you... Wants to kill all of us... Do you not remember? What happened at Will’s? What happened at the mall?!”

Steve's cheeks are burning, it would be obvious if there was more than only a few and far between street lights to light up the car. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck, thinks he can feel Billy’s grip because in his dreams Billy _does_ try to kill him... every single night— and his attempt to be in the present is slipping through his fingers. “He’s not flayed anymore or whatever...”

“Even before he was flayed he wanted to kill you!” 

“I’m just trying to be a good friend!”

Dustin snorts, confused. “To who? Max?”

Steve hesitates. They’re friends, right? He’s not just a glorified babysitter like everyone loves to tease him for?

“Yeah, to Max.” He's getting even more flustered because it’s all stupid. He _should not_ be feeling insecure about whether or not a fourteen-year-old considers them friends. 

Dustin goes quiet and thankfully only a few moments later they pull into his driveway. 

“You’re crazy.” He doesn’t get out of the car, just sits and looks at Steve. Steve can see he really, truly thinks he’s crazy. And maybe he _is_ crazy. Lack of sleep does that to people, doesn't it? 

“Dustin…”

“Just don’t come crawling to me when he tries to kill you again. Billy in a coma might have been safe. But awake Billy _has_ never and _will_ never be safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and the comments on the first two chapters! The support means the world to me. I cryyyyy.  
> And thank you for the patience! I know it's taken me a minute to get this third chapter up but I'm already writing the fourth and plan to get at least one chapter up per month from now on.  
> More kudos and comments are always appreciated!  
> Andddddd. Steve and Billy will get to interact in the next chapter, I promise. ;)


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